Avenger (Impossible #3) (10 page)

Sharon was waiting at the front door, but she wasn’t smiling this time.  Her stance radiated uncertainty; she was clearly still bothered by the idea of me leaving the house today.  “We have a team en route to pick up Ronan and Bradley,” she informed me.  “You can go to work, but you’ll be riding in my car.”

“Okay,” I agreed quickly, pleased that she was still prepared to let me go.

“I’m coming too,” Sean said from behind me.

“I’m afraid that’s inadvisable,” Sharon said firmly.  “You’re supposedly still in prison, and if anyone so much as glimpsed you it could cause problems.  We’re about to take your father into custody, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t others out there who might be watching Claudia.”

Sean’s hand closed around my shoulder, pulling me further back into the house.  “Well if that’s the case, then Claudia isn’t going either.”

I shot him an exasperated look.  “We’ve been over this, Sean.  Sharon and the other agents will be with me the whole time.  No one will be able to touch me.  But people can’t know that you’re free.”

“She’s right,” Sharon backed me up.  “I promise we’ll keep her safe, Sean.”

I fully turned to Sean, giving him a pleading look.  “Please stay here, Sean.  I’ll only be gone a few hours.”

He glared at me for a long moment.  “I know that I can’t stop you,” he said finally.  He still looked angry though.  I squeezed his hand and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“Bye,” I whispered.

Then I turned from him quickly, unwilling to see his disapproval.  I heard the door slam shut behind me as I followed Sharon to her car, and I winced.  I was going to be in so much trouble when I came home.

I smiled at Tommy as his small leg jerked when I tapped the reflex hammer beneath his knee.  “That’s perfect,” I told him warmly.  The day had flown by, and it was already late afternoon.  I almost didn’t want to go home; I had forgotten how much I loved my job.  But now I had a reason to be eager to return to my house: Sean.  My smile broadened at the thought of seeing him at the end of the day.  And at the potential prospect of seeing him at the end of every day for the rest of my life.  I was determined to ask him some very serious questions when I saw him in a few hours.

My happiness was slightly marred by the information that I had received around mid-morning.  Sharon had come back to my office to tell me that Ronan and Bradley hadn’t been at work.  The FBI and NYPD were combining manpower to scour the city for them.  Sharon assured me that they would soon find them, but she urged me to return home.  I had refused.  I was just as safe in the clinic with FBI agents outside as I was at my house with FBI agents outside, I reasoned.  No way was I going to spend any more time in hiding.  If they still hadn’t found Ronan and Bradley by tomorrow, then I would stay home.  But for now, I was determined to finish out the work day.

I was listening to the steady beat of Tommy’s heart when I was distracted by a knock on the door.

“I have a package for Dr. Ellers,” a muffled voice drifted through the thick wood.

I moved to open the door.  “You can just take it to the front de-”

The words died in my throat as I recognized the man in the chocolate brown UPS uniform.  Bradley was holding a cardboard box in one hand, and his other rested at his hip, emphasizing the familiar bulge of the gun tucked into his waistband.  When he spoke, he lowered his voice so that his words wouldn’t carry down the hall.

“If you come with me quietly, no one will get hurt.”  He looked at Tommy significantly, and fear shot through my gut.  Surely even Bradley wouldn’t hurt an innocent child.  I glanced over at my purse where I had stashed my gun.  Could I get to it fast enough?

“You have three seconds, doc,” Bradley threatened, his eyes narrowing dangerously.  “One,” he began to count.

“Wait!”  I choked out, my voice high and thin.  “I’ll come with you.  Just…  Please.  Don’t hurt him.”

I raised my chin and stepped out into the hallway, heading for the lobby.  The FBI was waiting outside.  I wasn’t sure how Bradley had gotten past them, but they would be on him as soon as we walked out the front door.  He caught me by the elbow, redirecting me.  My heart sank.  We were going out the back.

My pulse was racing and my hands were trembling.  I struggled to formulate a plan as I walked down the long hallway as though heading for the gallows.  I just needed to get outside, to get Bradley away from the kids.  Then I could scream, and the FBI would come running.  I just prayed that they could make it to me before Bradley had the time to shoot.  The odds of that happening weren’t good.

As soon as I stepped out into the warmth of the waning sunlight, I opened my mouth to scream.  But Bradley was ready for it.  I expected to feel a bullet tearing through me, but instead a foul odor filled my nose as he clamped a cloth over my mouth.  Fog instantly began to swirl at the corners of my mind, and I jerked in Bradley’s grip.  But my efforts were weak as my body began to go limp.  I heard his hated voice in my ear.

“As much as I’d love an excuse to hurt you, Ronan doesn’t want there to be any defensive wounds.”

I heard his words, but they didn’t make any sense.  Why didn’t he just kill me?

But then all thoughts were slipping away as the fog rapidly overwhelmed me.  The last thing I saw was an innocuous-looking UPS van before darkness rolled over me.

Chapter 9

The smell of something sharp and pungent jerked me awake.  I blinked several times, still disoriented from the effects of the chloroform.  The shadowy figure of a man loomed above me, and I saw him tuck the smelling salts that had awoken me into his pocket.  I drew in several deep breaths to quell my rising panic as I took in my surroundings.  I was seated in a straight backed wooden chair in the middle of what seemed to be a shabby studio apartment.  What little furniture there was was threadbare, and the paint was peeling from the walls.

Gathering my courage, I looked up at the man standing before me.  I knew who it was before I met his gorgeous green eyes: Ronan Reynolds.  Glancing around him, I caught sight of the door and considered running for it.  But I knew that I wouldn’t get two steps before Ronan took me down.  Besides, Bradley was hovering behind him.  Even if I somehow managed to dodge Ronan, I wouldn’t make it past him a well.

Still, my fight-or-flight instincts were stronger than my rational mind, and I tried to fling my body into forward motion.  I was stopped short as my shoulders jerked back painfully.  My wrists were bound around the chair behind me.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t struggle.  Those restraints aren’t rough, but I don’t want there to be any marks.”  Despite his years in America, Ronan’s brogue was so thick that it took me a moment to process his words.

I glared up at him.  “What are you talking about?”  I demanded, drawing on my rising anger in order to push back my fear.  “Why am I here?  Why haven’t you just killed me already?”

Ronan chuckled.  Unlike when Sean laughed, it was a cold, horrible sound, devoid of any true joy.  I suppressed a shudder as it issued forth from that all-too-familiar face.  The resemblance to Sean was jarring.

“So many questions,” he said.  He cocked his head, considering me.  “Bradley didn’t tell me how fiery you are.  Most people would be pissing themselves right now.”  He leaned down, closing the distance between us until his face was inches from mine.  His eyes bored into me, weighing me up.  “Or maybe you’re just too stupid to realize just how much you should fear me,” he said softly.

I fought the strong urge to drop my gaze.  “Oh, I know all about you,” I hissed.  “You use fear and pain to control people.  Well, you’re not controlling
me
.”

He raised one eyebrow and pulled away so that he was towering over me once again.  “We’ll see about that,” he said softly.  “Now,” he continued on, his voice turning brusque and business-like.  “It seems that the feds have been grabbing quite a few of my men over the last few days.  Far too many of my men.  That can only mean one thing: we have a snitch.  So I had to wonder.  What’s changed recently?  Who might be responsible?”  His tone was musing, but his eyes were sharp as he watched me carefully.  “You were barely a blip on my radar; you were just some whore my idiot son was fucking.  But then Bradley came to me yesterday with some very interesting information.  Apparently, you’ve been quite inquisitive.  You were the reason that Bradley and my son were arrested.  Of course,” his eyes flicked to Bradley, “it was wrong of Bradley to keep this from me for so long.  But he’s working hard to redeem himself.  He just needs to be educated.  His first attempts against you were sloppy and foolish.  I’ll admit that bribing Garcia to go after you on his behalf wasn’t a half-bad idea, but personally making an attempt on your life was beyond stupid.”

Fury boiled up in me, and I glared at Bradley.  “You killed Clayton,” I hissed.  “He was a federal agent.  Did you know that?  You’re going to rot in jail for the rest of your pathetic life.”

Bradley’s face darkened to a thunderhead and he took two menacing steps toward me, but Ronan held up a hand, stopping him short.  “Don’t let her goad you into hurting her,” he ordered.  “Not yet.  She has a choice to make first.  We’ll see whether or not she submits to my control.”  His grin was hard-edged and cruel.

My rage overwhelmed me, making me reckless.  Suddenly, I
wanted
to make him strike me.  If it was his plan not to hurt me, then I would force him to do the opposite.  “You murdered my parents, you son of a bitch.  And the FBI can prove it.  You and Bradley can be prison buddies.  You might scare him now, but you’re getting old.  I wonder how long it’ll be before he makes you his bitch?”

He just continued to smile down at me, his eyes devoid of warmth.  “I killed your parents?”  He asked, sounding no more than mildly interested.

“You gunned them down in the street outside New York Methodist Hospital on October 6, 1998,” I hurled the accusation at him, my voice steeped in venom.

Ronan tapped his lips thoughtfully for a moment, his gaze turning inward.  Then he shrugged.  “I don’t recall.  As you say, I’m getting old.  My memory’s not what it used to be.”  He had the gall to smirk at me.

“You don’t
remember?!
”  I shrieked.  “You ruined my life!  And you
don’t remember?!
”  I jerked against my restraints, my fingernails biting into my palms as my hands curled to tight fists.  I wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of Ronan.  In that moment, all compassion, all of my humanitarian urges, left me completely.  I wanted him dead.  And I wanted to watch him die slowly.

He frowned at me slightly, unaffected by my tirade.  “I’ve told you not to struggle,” he reprimanded.

I just twisted harder against the bindings.  “And why the fuck would I do anything you tell me to do?”  I flung at him defiantly.

“Because if it’s going to look like an accident, then there can’t be any defensive wounds,” Ronan explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Bradley’s methods were misguided and unrefined.  This is much more elegant.  You’re the snitch.  If we murder you, then that only incriminates us further.  But if you’re dead, you can’t testify against us in court.”

I wanted to tell him that the absence of my testimony didn’t matter; Sean would bring him down even if I was gone.  But I couldn’t tell him that.  I had to keep Sean out of this.  Ronan and Bradley believed that he was still in jail.  They didn’t have the slightest inkling of his betrayal.  I had to ensure that it stayed that way.

“There are others,” I said desperately.  “Some of the men that they’ve arrested.  They’ve cut deals in exchange for giving information.”

Ronan scoffed.  “Criminals will say anything to get a reduced sentence.  Besides, I have ways of
persuading
them to maintain their silence.”  His grin was more a baring of his teeth.  “As you say, I’m very good at controlling people.  Which brings us back to our dilemma: Am I able to control
you?
”

I wanted to tell him that there was no way in hell that I was going to give into whatever it was that he wanted from me, but then a thought occurred to me.  My phone.  My phone was still in my pocket; I could feel the hardness of it against my leg.  Mercifully, it was on silent, so if it rang Ronan wouldn’t know to take it off of me and destroy it.  My phone had GPS, and the FBI could use it to track my location.  If I could only keep Ronan talking, then maybe they would realize that I was no longer at work.  Maybe I could buy them the time they needed to find me.

“Well, that depends on what you want from me,” I said coolly.

Ronan reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe.  “I want you to kill yourself,” he said simply.  “This is enough heroin to make you overdose.  If by some slim chance you do survive, it’ll be enough to cook your brain.  You won’t be able to testify against anyone.”

I couldn’t stop the shudder of revulsion that wracked my body.  Nausea rose up within me at his matter-of-fact words.  No way was I going to comply.  If I had to die, then I would go down fighting.  “Fuck you,” I snarled.

Ronan smiled at me softly.  “But I haven’t told you the consequences for disobedience yet,” he said.  “You can’t control people just by telling them to do things.  There have to be consequences for defiance.  Surely Sean explained that to you?”

“I don’t care,” I spat.  “You can do whatever you want to me.  You can torture me.  I’m not going to play your sick game.”

“Brave words,” Ronan said, but his tone was mocking rather than impressed.  “I don’t know that you fully understand what you’re asking for.  I’m quite skilled at torture.”  I swallowed hard against the bile rising in my throat as all manner of horrible things that he might do to me raced across my mind.  “But pain isn’t your consequence,” he continued.  “You see, good people are so easy to manipulate.  I learned that from my son.  They’ll do almost anything to protect the people they care about.”

What was he talking about?  “I don’t have anyone left for you to hurt,” I said, unable to fully keep the anguish from my tone.  “You murdered my parents, and Bradley killed Clayton.  There’s no one else.”